


the longest time

by riverblujay



Series: analogical human au [1]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: 'wow find me someone, ADHD Logan Sanders, Dyslexic Roman Sanders, Fluff, Human AU, Logan is a teacher, M/M, Podfic Available, casually slipping in headcanons such as:, logan and virgil are so in love my left brain bois, that looks at me the way virgil looks at logan', the one that you see and go, they are That married couple, this is sickeningly domestic, yes i recorded a podfic of my own writing dont @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 16:39:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15586173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverblujay/pseuds/riverblujay
Summary: "Whoa, oh, oh, oh,” he began singing, and Logan couldn’t help but smile and look up. Virgil was smiling gently in between the words. “For the longest time.”He kept singing, and after the second chorus abandoned the instrument and sang a capella so he could pull Logan off of the couch and dance with him, the way they had danced to this song at their wedding years and years ago. This was their song, the song that their first dance had been to, the song that at their wedding Virgil couldn’t help but softly sing the lyrics to while they had their first dance.[or, as described by lab (the Fave): "local teacher fails spectacularly at ignoring his doting husband. class excitement and ukulele music ensue."]





	the longest time

Logan sat at the kitchen table and groaned, contemplating the merits of bashing his head against the piece of furniture. 

 

He didn’t regret being a teacher- far from it, in fact- but grading AP Chemistry essays was not his favorite part of the job. Logan glanced at the two stacks spread out next to him on the table- one with completed essays, and one that held papers that still needed to be graded. He groaned again. The yet-to-be-graded pile was larger than he would have liked- Logan had been hoping to finish grading all of them before the weekend, since the next week would be spring break and he wanted his students to have feedback for the steadily approaching AP exams in May.  Today was Wednesday, though, which meant that if Logan wished to reach his goal he would have to stay up later than normal.

 

He sighed. No matter how hard he wished it, complaining to himself wouldn’t help him at all. Logan fidgeted with his glasses and then forced himself back into the essay he was currently grading (Patton Foster, who had surprised everyone  _ but _ Logan when he signed up for AP Chem during scheduling.

 

Roman Prince had been a surprise to others besides himself as well- but maybe that was because others hadn’t seen the two in his classes before. The two had been lab partners for honors chemistry last year, and he could tell they both loved the subject and were also extremely competent at it. The last factor made grading this particular essay far more enjoyable than it could have been.)

 

Logan managed to get through another three essays before he heard the door open. 

 

“Hello,” he absent mindedly called out to Virgil once his husband was fully inside the door.

 

“Hey,” he replied. Virgil walked over, and from behind planted a kiss on the crown of Logan’s head. “Still grading?”

 

“Yes, unfortunately. I might be up late tonight. Did you find everything you required at the grocery store?”

 

Virgil hummed affirmatively. “Yeah, I was going to make chicken and broccoli alfredo tonight, if you want.”

 

Logan turned his head back up to look at him. “You’re amazing, you know that?” 

 

“You’re just saying that because you love it when I cook.”

 

“That is a falsehood.”

 

“Sure, Logan.  _ Sure. _ ”

 

They shared a small smile before Logan (unfortunately) forced his attention back on his grading and his husband started making their dinner. 

 

He managed to get through a few more papers before dinner was ready, carefully moving the essays to the coffee table in the living room and helped Virgil set the table. The two of them got plates out and served themselves, Virgil once again proving himself to be an excellent cook.

 

“So how was work today?” Virgil asked.

 

“Fine,” Logan replied. “The kids are ready for spring break. I’m think I’m going to have a lab day on Friday as a surprise, something more exciting than all of the AP test prep we’ve been doing.”

 

“That does sound like fun,” Virgil said, taking a bite of his pasta after his reply.

 

“And how was your day?”

 

“It was okay,” he stated. “Finished a whole chapter today, which my editor was happy about.” His husband was an author, and a popular one at that (although Virgil wrote under a pen name). Logan had seen a multitude of his students reading his husband’s novels, which was secretly delightful to the high school teacher. His students didn’t even know that he was married. Logan wore his ring on a necklace (close to his heart) at school, and that was enough for them. He and Virgil didn’t feel the need to flaunt their relationship, but that didn’t make it any less real.

 

They continued chatting over dinner, recounting their days to each other- the parts that made them laugh out loud, the worse moments, the good in spite of the bad. He and Virgil cleaned up together like normal, and Logan was forced to return to his grading. Instead of sitting at the table, however, he laid on the couch instead of going back to the kitchen table. He pulled the coffee table next to him and used it to set his stacks of essays on (slowly but surely, the ‘graded’ pile was growing and the ‘ungraded’ pile was shrinking. Slowly.)

 

It hadn’t felt like a very long time, mostly because his attention had been absorbed in the papers he was marking (hyperfocus working  _ with  _ him, for once) but suddenly he was tapped on the shoulder by his husband. 

 

“Come on,” Virgil said. “Take a break. It’s been hours.”

 

“Has it?” Logan muttered. He glanced at the clock, and sure enough, it was almost ten o’clock. Nearly four hours had passed. “I’m fine,” he assured Virgil, and turned back to the student’s paper.  Virgil hummed in suspicion, then walked to their bedroom. Logan assumed he was going to bed, but only a minute later he returned to the living room and the teacher heard the soft strumming sounds of Virgil’s ukulele.

 

_ “Whoa, oh, oh, oh,” _ he began singing, and Logan couldn’t help but smile and look up. Virgil was smiling gently in between the words.  _ “For the longest time.” _

 

He kept singing, and after the second chorus abandoned the instrument and sang  _ a capella _ so he could pull Logan off of the couch and dance with him, the way they had danced to this song at their wedding years and years ago. This was  _ their _ song, the song that their first dance had been to, the song that at their wedding Virgil couldn’t help but softly sing the lyrics to while they had their first dance. Logan joined in on the last verse-

 

_ “I don’t care what consequence it brings, _

 

_ I have been a fool for lesser things.” _

 

They smiled at each other as they sang together,  _ “I want you so bad, and I think you ought to know that- _

 

_ I intend to hold you for the longest time.” _

 

He and Virgil shared a small smile, but soon Logan couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and soon his husband joined in. They held hands and kept swaying in the middle of their living room, humming to each other and eventually they went to bed, the rest of Logan’s grading left for tomorrow.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Since tomorrow is the last day before spring break, I have decided we will have a lab practical tomorrow. Wear appropriate clothes, and make sure to bring your goggles,” Logan calmly announced before the excited whispers could break out. Not that his AP Chemistry students necessarily  _ needed _ the reminder, but it never hurt. When it came to lab safety, “better to be safe than sorry” was his policy.

 

“I will also be handing back your essays tomorrow as well,” he continued before setting up his power point. “We do have a few notes to take today, so let’s get started.” The promise of a lab day tomorrow seemed to sate his student’s boredom at taking notes as they grabbed their notebooks (and those that preferred them, laptops- Logan trusted his students and didn’t see the point in forcing someone into a note taking style that was less effective for them. Also, Roman- who was dyslexic- used his laptop for taking notes per his IEP, and it was better not to single him out, in Logan’s opinion.)

 

After Logan wrote an equation on the whiteboard, Patton suddenly raised his hand. 

 

“Yes, Patton? Did you have a question about the lesson?”

 

“Not exactly, but… Mr. Sanders, are you  _ married? _ ” Logan looked at his left hand, and realized he had forgotten to move his ring from his hand to the chain around his neck that morning.

 

_ Whoops. _

 

Logan stiffened his already impeccable posture and stated as calmly as possible, “Yes.” The room burst out into whispers. “However,” he spoke over them, “as this is not relevant to the lesson, I would prefer to leave any discussions about me and my husband’s romantic life for a later time.”

 

The class erupted in cacophony.  _ Fuck, _ Logan thought. 

 

Now they  _ definitely  _ wouldn’t get through today’s notes. But while fielding his students’ questions, Logan couldn’t help but smile. 


End file.
